


that kind of luxe just ain’t for us

by catalysis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Period Typical Bigotry, Pining, Trans Kozume Kenma, kuroo week 2020, set in 16/17th century england
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26099824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catalysis/pseuds/catalysis
Summary: Tetsurou Kuroo, Baron de Clifford, son of the Earl of Cumberland finds himself inconveniently attracted to a cheerful new stable groom. Will he be able to preserve his family’s honor while pursuing his heart?--written for kuroo week 2020 day 3-historical au
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Kuroo Week 2020





	that kind of luxe just ain’t for us

**Author's Note:**

> suspend your disbelief and let me put japanese people in mildly accurate elizabethan/jacobean england. thank you  
> period-accurate references were drawn from [here](http://elizabethan.org/compendium/home.html) or [here](https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/Library/SLT/index.html). everything else is my hubris from reading 1.5 shakespeare plays in hs.  
> -  
> !disclaimer: trans kenma is in the background here, but if you find any issues with how i wrote him, please let me know
> 
> warnings for period-typical homophobia and transphobia, mentions of infertility, mentions of minor character death
> 
> also, a little context: when they were children, kuroo and kenma’s families arranged for them to be married

Tetsurou stares out of the second story window like some Shakespearean maiden. 

His father’s employed a new groom and Tetsurou has been… intrigued, to say the least. He’s broad-shouldered and tall, nearly as tall as the horses, and looks just as strong.

“My lord,” he hears from behind him, yanking him out of his reverie. 

He turns. 

“Master Isao is requesting your presence.”

* * *

“Tetsurou,” his father greets. “Your grandmother wishes to go riding. You will accompany her.”

“Of course, my lord,” Tetsurou says.

He leads his grandmother out to the stables and would you look at that, the new groom is still there.

“Good afternoon my lord, my lady,” Sou, the head groom greets. “Koutarou,” he calls and the new groom turns his head. Tetsurou perks up; Koutarou’s his name? “Grab two saddles, for the palfrey and the cob.”

“Yes sir,” Koutarou says and Tetsurou learns that even his voice is attractive.

* * *

Kenma visits the next day. He’s alone, which is becoming more and more uncommon the closer the wedding gets.

Kenma still smooths down his skirts and sits down primly in an armchair, but Tetsurou notices that his posture isn’t as miserably straight as it would be if he’d brought a chaperone. He’s working on embroidering a pillow with what look like marigolds.

Tetsurou talks because he knows Kenma'll listen. “So, his name’s Koutarou. Apparently father met him at an inn in London and the horses liked him so much that he hired him.”

“That’s unusual,” Kenma points out.

Tetsurou definitely agrees, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Yeah, it is, but Kei, you know, the old groom, left to work for Lord Derby, so he needed to hire someone anyway.”

“Have you even spoken to him?”

Tetsurou splutters. “Well, no.”

Kenma looks up from his embroidery long enough to fix Tetsurou with a judgemental stare.

* * *

Tetsurou goes back out to the stables the next day. It being good weather for horse riding is how he justifies this to himself.

Sou and Koutarou are nowhere to be seen when he walks in, so Tetsurou makes his way towards the back of the stables.

As he gets further in, he hears a soft voice carried towards him.

“Aw, who’s a pretty horse?” Tetsurou hears and he turns the corner just as Koutarou’s pulling something out from under his coat. Their eyes meet and Tetsurou’s too busy mulling over the strangeness of the whole situation to be flustered.

“Uh, good afternoon,” Tetsurou says.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” Koutarou says and he’s slowly sliding his hand out from under his coat.

“You can continue whatever you were doing,” Tetsurou says, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Koutarou’s face is pink as he pulls a carrot out. Huh, now that Tetsurou thinks about it, that’s what he should have expected.

“She’s going to be spoilt,” Tetsurou says.

“I can stop!” Koutarou exclaims, “I meant no disrespect, sir.”

“No it’s fine,” Tetsurou grins, “She _is_ a pretty horse.”

Koutarou flushes a deeper red. Tetsurou’s appreciation of this is interrupted as the horse snuffles loudly when she sees the carrot. Tetsurou brushes a hand through her mane and pretends that he doesn’t feel Koutarou’s gaze linger on his face a touch too long.

* * *

Kenma catches a cold that keeps him at home. Tetsurou visits on the third day and sits next to his bed. People will talk, but don’t they always?

Kenma looks fine, if a bit pale, and his fingers are still working over his ever-present embroidery. He doesn’t look up when he says, “I can hear you thinking from here, what is it?”

“Okay, so I went to the stables and…”

“Sounds like you guys get along.”

“Well, I mean, we’ve only spoken once,” Tetsurou blushes ignores Kenma’s eyeroll, “Anyway, I think you’d like him too.”

“Maybe, introduce me next time I visit.”

* * *

Kenma’s finally deemed healthy enough to visit a week later and Tetsurou leads him out to the stable, ostensibly for a "romantic" afternoon ride through the woods.

He sees Koutarou and unconsciously starts walking faster until Kenma's unamused huff makes him slow down with a sheepish glance behind him.

“Good morning, sir,” Koutarou greets. 

Kenna finally catches up and Tetsurou meets his eyes before saying, "This is Kenma. He's my betrothed.”

It’s subtle and could be written off, like their parents and a good majority of the staff do, but Tetsurou hopes that Koutarou doesn’t.

Koutarou blinks once before understanding fills his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, my lord.” 

Kenma’s eyes snap up and he nods slightly, in thanks. "Ah, you can just call me Kenma."

“Okay!” Koutarou says, and Tetsurou wants to do something terribly unbecoming right now.

* * *

Tetsurou keeps going out to the stables and his rear is sore from all of the horse riding he has to do to justify it. Koutarou keeps sneaking the horses, especially that first mare, carrots, and after the fourth time he catches him in the act, Tetsurou starts bringing him baskets of them.

They get along so well that it’s kind of shocking. Most of the servants think that Tetsurou’s eccentric, and the ones that don’t are usually too shy to make conversation with him.

Koutarou’s funny and enthusiastic and so, so sweet, and the infatuation that Tetsurou had at the beginning is spiralling into something else entirely.

Kenma even comes along some days and Tetsurou is always pleasantly surprised when they whisper at each other and laugh at something. He’s not even mad that it’s probably at his expense.

“It must be nice to get to marry someone you love, sir,” Koutarou says one of those days, something unreadable in his tone.

Kenma snorts from where he’s sat in a chair that Tetsurou had to sneak out of the house. 

Tetsurou stares at Koutarou for a second. “If things were different, I don’t think we’d be the other’s first choice.” He speaks slowly, hoping that he’s read this right. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but not as anything more than a friend.”

Koutarou’s looking at him with such intensity that yeah, he thinks he’d read it right.

* * *

It’s around four months after Koutarou’s arrival when all three of Tetsurou’s attendants become indisposed for some reason or another. One’s sick, another’s returned home for a sister’s wedding, and the last one just quit completely.

Tetsurou can take care of himself but he’d be an idiot if he didn’t take advantage of this opportunity. 

So when his father asks if he’d like to promote anyone to the newly vacant position, he doesn’t hesitate to ask for Koutarou. His father’s obviously puzzled. He’d obviously expected for Tetsurou to choose one of the numerous servers, but he’s chosen a stable boy. And not even a senior one at that. But he has no reason to deny him, so it’s approved and Tetsurou nearly knocks his chair over in his haste to head to the stables.

“Good morning, sir,” Sou greets upon his arrival.

Tetsurou doesn’t really have time for pleasantries. “Do you mind if I take Koutarou away from you?”

“No? May I ask why?”

Tetsurou can’t help but grin. “Well, I’m currently attendant-less and I thought Koutarou would be a good fit.” As he heads further into the stables, he calls over his shoulder, “And I thought you and Yuuki would appreciate the privacy.”

“Uh, thank you, sir,” Sou squeaks.

“Good afternoon,” Tetsurou says as he comes up behind Koutarou, who’s, as usual, feeding some horse a carrot.

Koutarou whips around and winces as the sudden jolt makes the horse nip his fingers. It’s so ridiculous that Tetsurou’s grin can only widen.

“Good morning, my lord.”

Tetsurou feels nervous all of a sudden. Koutarou could deny him and could say _No thanks, I don’t want to spend any more time with you_ , and then what? Tetsurou might actually die of embarrassment, or heartbreak, maybe both. 

“Would you, maybe, want to be my attendant,” Tetsurou pauses, “I mean, it could be just temp—”

“Sure!” Koutarou says. “I overheard you talking to Sou earlier,” he admits. He pauses. “Wait, does this mean I don’t get to see the horses?”

Tetsurou is relieved and endeared in the same breath. “We can still visit, if you’d like.”

Koutarou’s brow is adorably furrowed. “Well, sir, I thought you really liked the horses, seeing as you visited almost everyday.”

Tetsurou really can’t tell if he’s being coy or if he’s truly this clueless. “You think I visited to see the horses?”

“You don’t?” Koutarou cocks his head to the side, but there’s a challenging glint in his eyes. So maybe not completely clueless then.

“No, there was something else here that caught my eye.”

* * *

Making Koutarou an attendant was simultaneously a wonderful decision and a terrible one.

It’s wonderful because there’s something awfully thrilling about their fingers brushing when Koutarou hands him clothes through the wardrobe door, especially after his other attendants return.

But it’s so, so terrible now that Koutarou is closer than he’s ever been before, but Tetsurou still can’t have him. 

Whenever Kenma visits, Tetsurou dismisses his attendants and they wander off to god knows where, but now Koutarou stays, so Tetsurou can’t very well lament his pining to Kenma with the object of his affections in the room.

Everything just keeps piling on and on until one day, Tetsurou snaps. It’s not explosive or anything, it’s more like his cup for patience has finally overflowed.

When the clock strikes ten, his attendants all get up to leave and Tetsurou manages to keep his voice steady as he says, “Koutarou, a moment, please.”

Koutarou looks at him curiously but stays put. 

When the door swings shut, Tetsurou stands up and steps into Koutarou’s space. He really was going to try to be suave, but it just feels wrong when Koutarou looks at him like that.

So Tetsurou holds out a hand and it feels so right when Koutarou slots their fingers together.

Tetsurou lowers his voice to a whisper because he’s afraid that any louder and he might shatter the moment. “I adore you,” Tetsurou murmurs, and once he’s said it, he can’t imagine not saying it more. “I like you, so much.”

“Me too,” Koutarou says and he flushes, “I mean, I like you too.”

And what can Tetsurou do but lean forward and press his mouth to Koutarou’s? He honestly has no idea what he’s doing but he doesn’t think Koutatou’s much better. 

Koutarou pulls away first and his eyes are so bright when he says, “I want everyone to know about this, us, how I feel about you.”

“We can’t,” Tetsurou says. But the soft candlelight and heavy warmth of the room make him want to forget about everything besides right here and right now. 

“Why not?” Koutarou asks and he’s so earnest that it sinks beneath Tetsurou’s tongue and makes his teeth ache.

Thats’s a good question. Why not?

The answer, of which there are so very many, should be obvious, should cling tightly to Tetsurou’s common sense, but he can’t even think of one right now.

Koutarou’s mouth is so warm and soft and Tetsurou loses himself in it. Just a little more, he tells himself.

But he gets greedy, so greedy that he forgets where he is, who he is. 

Neither of them hears the door creak open, nor the footsteps that follow. By the time that Tetsurou registers the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, there’s a hand gripping his collar that yanks him off of Koutarou and he tips onto the floor. 

He scrambles to his feet and turns around to meet the intruder’s eyes. He can’t imagine who’d have the audacity to lay a hand on him, even if he was doing something unseemly, unless it’s—

It’s his father and Tetsurou’s heart stops. Tetsurou could lie, could come up with some weak excuse, but his father’s no fool and the look in his eyes says that he knows exactly what was going on.

“See me in my chambers,” he says and it rings like a death sentence.

* * *

Tetsurou walks into his father’s chambers with his back straight and his head held high because he hasn’t done anything wrong. He hasn’t.

Obviously, his father disagrees, judging by the disappointed look on his face.

“I put up with whatever deviancy the Kozume girl gets up to, but I won’t have my own son defy the natural order like this,” Isao Kuroo looks at his son, cold, calculating. “You get rid of the stable boy or I’ll have the betrothal annulled.”

Bringing Kenma into this is a low blow and they both know it. The first time that Tetsurou had gathered enough courage to defend Kenma, his father had only smiled serenely. Tetsurou really thought that he had won, even if it was just an inch, but his father had turned around and thrown a banquet “in celebration of his future daughter” for no discernable reason and Tetsurou could only watch as Kenma was paraded around in a new dress and heavy, pale makeup. Kenma hadn’t come to visit for a month after that.

But, this threat is so much worse. Tetsurou knows that their arranged marriage is the only reason Kenma is allowed even the tiny amount of freedom he has. 

Tetsurou could rage, could make half-meant threats, but he knows any of that would be paid back twofold and that his father isn’t above using Kenma to punish him. 

So he nods and bows like an obedient son.

* * *

“You have to leave,” Tetsurou says. His hands are balled into fists at his sides because he thinks if he touches Koutarou, he might never let go. 

“I know,” Koutarou says, “but I’ll come back. I promise.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

“I can.” His golden eyes shine. “I will.” His hands are firm on Tetsurou’s shoulders. “I do.” And the conviction he says it with traces something like hope into the lines of Tetsurou’s heart.

* * *

Koutarou’s gone by morning and Tetsurou feels his absence like he’s been cut open.

At breakfast, he says, “Koutarou told me that he’s been called back home to help his ailing mother.”

His father hums. “What a shame, he was such a hard worker.”

Tetsurou should be angry, but he just doesn’t have the energy.

* * *

Maybe as a show of good faith or something, Tetsurou’s father has the wedding pushed forward to the week after Koutarou leaves. Most of the arrangements have already been made, but Tetsurou knows that he’ll never really feel ready.

The wedding is too big and too loud, even for Tetsurou. When the priest takes his and Kenma’s hands, Tetsurou has the absurd thought that if he just started running, right now, no one could stop him. Who would try? Not the priest, nor the servants. Maybe his father would send people after him, but Tetsurou could still _try_. 

Kenma’s quiet voice drags him out of his thoughts. “I do.” Kenma’s not looking at him or the priest and Tetsurou is reminded of just how much this marriage matters if not for him, then for Kenma.

So Tetsurou stays and lets the priest drone on and says “I do.”

* * *

Kenma spends the majority of their marriage holed up in his bedchambers and Tetsurou doesn’t blame him. He’s livid every time he hears the maids’ whispers of _poor thing_ , or _haven’t you heard? she’s too frail to even bear children_ , and he can’t even imagine what it has to feel like for Kenma. 

So Tetsurou runs himself ragged trying to keep up appearances. He goes out for dinner every afternoon and presses pennies into servers’ and servants’ hands and laughs at every joke the lesser earls make. 

He grinds himself down for his family, for honor, for Kenma, and for hope.

* * *

Tetsurou keeps this up for two years. Two years of excessive days and exhausted nights.  
He keeps it up until everything starts falling apart. Kenma catches the flu, somehow, despite not leaving his room, much less the house. Tetsurou calls three separate doctors and pays each of them far too much money for them to prescribe _lettuce_ of all things. 

He receives news that his father’s been tragically killed in a carriage accident in Hackney and he doesn’t have time to do more than pin the rosemary to his sleeve before the vultures start descending. Everyone expresses concern about his fitness to sit in the House because he’s prone to flaunting his wealth and he can’t seem to keep his _wife_ under control, as if each and every one of them aren’t guilty of the same sins. 

Even the damn steward seems to want Tetsurou’s head on a pike, which means Tetsurou has to take up household management on top of everything else. Everything’s a mess.

A knock sounds at his office door. No one knocks anymore except for the secretary he’d retained even before his father’s death. Morisuke is doing a fine job, and Tetsurou will probably end up promoting him by the end of the quarter. Hell, even if he wasn’t doing a good job, he’d still promote him; he can’t deal with much more of this.

“Come in,” he says. He doesn’t look up from the messy papers when he says, “If Shouhei is still asking for more damn chickens, tell him to go into the woods and catch them himself.”

“Uh, I don’t think there are chickens in the woods.”

“I know, that’s the—” Wait. That’s not Morisuke’s voice. Is it—? It can’t be. 

It can. It is. Koutarou is right there. He’s close enough to touch, but Tetsurou stills his hands.

“Do the servants just let anyone in now?” he says, voice hoarse, because what else can he say? 

“I didn’t notice any servants.” And is Koutarou’s voice richer than before? Probably not, but Tetsurou believes it anyways. 

Oh. Right. Most of the servants had mutinied with the steward, and Tetsurou’s too busy to boss around the ones that stayed. Tetsurou makes a mental note that he should definitely find more. 

Later. Right now, Koutarou’s standing in front of him like every single one of his dreams over the past two years, and Tetsurou has no idea what to do. “Why are you here?” he asks, because hope is a fragile thing and he can’t afford to let it out unless he’s absolutely sure.

Koutarou steps closer until he’s close enough that Tetsurou can see the individual flecks of brown in his golden eyes. 

“I’m here to keep a promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> kuroo and bokuto in period accurate hairstyles,, just something to think abt.  
> ask or yell at me abt historical inaccuracies in the comments <3  
> let's be friends on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nyamayachi)!


End file.
